


The Gift

by Bellatrix_Wannabe_89



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, OQ Advent 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 18:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16897668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellatrix_Wannabe_89/pseuds/Bellatrix_Wannabe_89
Summary: Written for OQ Advent 2018When Regina discovers a homeless man and his family living in a church on Christmas Eve she has two choices; kick them out or invite them to spend the holiday with her. Either way, whatever choice she makes, it is most certain to be a holiday to remember...





	The Gift

_ “Saint Nicholas of Myra is the patron saint of children, merchants, sailors, students, archers, thieves, pawnbrokers, brewers and many more… his legendary habit of secret gift-giving gave rise to the traditional model of Santa Claus ("Saint Nick") through Sinterklaas. _ ”

—-

“You have fun tonight?” 

Henry Mills shrugged as he and his mother walked home from the annual Christmas Eve party that Mary-Margaret and her husband David threw that half the town attended to the point Regina had to park her Mercedes a block away from the loft. It was nearing midnight in the sleepy town of Storybrooke Maine and a chill was beginning to settle in despite the heavy layers mother and son were wearing.

A light snow was falling from the inky midnight sky, the icy crystal-like snowflakes reflecting the lights from the street lamps and the moon above making the streets and sidewalks a carpet of sparkling white diamonds.

“It was fine, I just think I’m getting a little old for the whole sitting on Santa’s lap thing. Plus Mary Margaret really can’t cook. I can only stomach so many half cooked pigs in a blanket a year.”

“That’s not nice, Henry,” Regina scolded but the sharpness in her tone was mellowed some by the laughter she had to bite back. “But I do know that twelve years old is too old for Santa but as mayor it’s expected that I go and the younger kids still believe so… thank you for sitting on David’s lap and pretending.”

Henry looked up at his mother and grinned rather cheekily. “Pretending is what I’m best at. I am going to be a writer after all…”

“That so?” Regina asked as they turned the final corner onto the street where her car was parked. 

Also on that particular block was St Mary’s Catholic Church, an imposing white marble building with stained glass windows showcasing the better known scenes from the New Testament that neither Regina nor Henry ever paid much attention to, nor did they go to Mass apart from the Christmas Eve service and the Easter Sunday service. On the front yawn there was a life size nativity scene with flood lights illuminating the holy birth, all of the figures as pale white as the pillowy soft snow covering the ground.

“Uh huh. And ya know what a budding writer could use?”

“What?” asked Regina as they started to walk past the Church, already knowing the answer to her one worded question.

“A MacBook Pro with a word processor already installed,” Henry answered as quickly as he could.

Any anticipation or excitement he had was quickly dashed as he watched his mother shake her head.

“I already told you you’re too young to have your own computer. Plus the one you want is way too expensive.”

“I’m not a little kid, Mom, I won’t break it.” 

He had to resist stomping his foot and huffing out a breath, knowing that would only prove her point.

“I said no, Henry.”

“Mom, come on can’t you just-?”

“Quiet.”

“I wasn’t even-.”

But when she shushed him again and Henry realized she had stopped suddenly Henry went silent, not even taking a step less his footsteps would make the new fallen snow crunch under his weight.

He listened intently. At first his ears only picked up the frigid howling wind blowing but then, when he listened closer, he could hear it.

A voice carrying above the wind. A voice that was singing alongside a tune being played on a piano, and it was coming from inside the church that only Henry now realized the chain that usually bolted the doors shut was now laying on top of the bushes besides the marble staircase.

The mother and son walked towards the church, a look of cautious curiosity on both their faces as they moved even closer until the voice they heard was as clear as the bells that the church so often rang and the tune they now both recognized was being played masterfully and the voice singing along side it was as beautiful as a birds song.

 

_ “What child is this, who laid to rest, _ _   
_ _ On Mary's lap is sleeping? _ _   
_ _ Whom angels greet with anthems sweet, _ _   
_ _ While shepherds watch are keeping?” _ __   
  


The voice belonged to a man and it was soft and sweet and it wrapped the two Mills in a warmth that they had never felt before when it came to Mary-Margaret playing and singing in her high falsetto voice every Christmas Eve.

“Is there a concert going on?” asked Henry as they took a step closer until their ears were pressed against the heavy wooden door.

Regina shook her head, nodding to the broken chain he noticed moments ago. “They would have unchained the doors. Not to mention we just saw Father Tuck at Mary-Margaret’s party after he got done from mass. It’s probably just someone who broke in.”

 

_ “Raise, raise a song on high,”  _ the heavenly voice continued from inside, his voice not a deep timber but gentle and one might even call angelic this time of year.

_ “The Virgin sings her lullaby. _

_ Joy, joy for Christ is born, _ _   
_ _ The Babe, the Son of Mary.”  _ __   
  


“So you’re saying someone broke into the church just to sing carols?” asked Henry with a raised brow that Regina responded with her own in kind but after hearing it outloud made her realize just how ridiculous the theory sounded.

“Come on,” she said to Henry, giving him a ruffle of his brown hair. “We should get going. YOU gotta get to bed, otherwise Santa might pass by our house without leaving any presents.”

 

_ “This, this is Christ the King, _ _   
_ _ Whom shepherds guard and angels sing. _

_ Haste, haste to bring him laud, _ _   
_ __ The Babe, the Son of Mary...”   
  


With that final note that the mystery pianist later the voice disappeared into the night.

“It’s getting cold out and the concerts over,” said Regina as she placed a well meaning hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

Henry may have agreed to her request, even if he would have done it with a cheeky reminder that he knew it was Regina who meticulously set out his gifts every year. He and Regina would have gone to their car within eyesight, played Bing Crosby on their Bluetooth car stereo and the mysterious singer would have been put out of both their minds.

They would have had a very normal, nothing out of the ordinary Christmas if not for the fact that they heard a second voice come from the church.

“Play something funner, Daddy,” a small boy’s pleaded from inside the church, his voice echoing in the great marble structure.

Regina whipped back around, her brown eyes wide with concern and shock, her disturbance at the turn of events exasperated by an infant fussing inside.

“What the…?” Regina trailed off, sharing an equally unsettled glance with her son before the brown eyed woman pushed open the heavy doors and she and Henry stepped inside trying to keep as quiet as possible.

The main lights were off, Regina assumed that it was so not to draw even more attention to the intruders, but it was as if every candle in the sanctuary was lit and their tiny flames were flickering in the otherwise dark room, casting long shadows across the man sitting at the piano and the small boy, no more than five, who sat beside him on the ebony wooden bench. 

The man held a tiny infint no bigger than a loaf of bread, Regina guessed seven or eight months, in his arms, wrapped only in a thin frayed pink blanket that did little to protect her from the cold draft in the old church.

What was curious though, was whereas the man’s clothes were worn and well used, the brown down jacket the small boy was wearing and the pink faux fur lined coat the baby wore looked almost new.

“You want something fun?” the man asked, smiling down at the curly haired child who nodded and smiled a rather toothy grin in response, both of them showcasing their deep dimples

He spoke with a British accent that was rather posh sounding, and he spoke with that same warmth and love and kindness in his voice that he used to sing. 

The man chuckled at his, Regina assumed, son’s request and sure enough the upbeat joyful sounds of ‘ _ Jolly Old Saint Nicholas _ ’ filled the sound of the church just as beautifully as the Hymn had done earlier.

Regina was frozen in her spot, not wanting to make her presence known, lest this group be something akin to serial killers or worse, but also didn’t want to disturb him for the rather selfish fact that his voice, even when he sang a children’s song, was far more beautiful than anything she had ever heard and she was reluctant to do anything to interrupt it.

As he sang Regina watched the tiny flickers of candle light dance across his face. He was handsome. Quite handsome as a matter of fact. With dark blonde hair that fell in his face and blue eyes, not piercing or icy but soft and warm and a strong angled jaw. The torn leather jacket and ratty grey hoodie he wore did quite a job to hide his figure but she could tell the way his arms bulged out against the too tight sleeves that this pianist was rather fit.

He was beautiful.

Henry, however, didn’t seem to fall for his spell as deeply as Regina had and shut the heavy wooden door to keep out the draft, which Regina realized did very little to keep out the cold or keep in the warmth of the drafty old church, with a loud bang that echoed so loud she swore that everyone in Storybrooke could hear.

The piano stopped just as abruptly as the singing did and Regina chewed her lip as the man and his son, who looked terrified and clung to his father as tight as his strength would allowed.

“Take the baby,” she heard the man breathe softly and Regina watched as the pianist handed the swaddled infant to the boy who was looking at Regina and Henry as if they were apt to rush at them claws first.

The man cleared his throat before a forced smile that even a blind man might be able to see through lit up his face.

“I’m afraid the church is locked up for the night,” he told the newcomer in an false chipper voice that Regina somehow knew didn’t belong to him on a normal day as he stood up from the bench. “The first mass is at 8:00 AM tomorrow, second is at 1:00 and then evening mass at 6:00.”

“If it’s locked up than what are you doing here?” asked Henry.

“I’m actually the maintenance guy, I was just playing on the piano a bit before I took my kids home.” He turned back to the small boy and the baby. “This is my son Roland and my daughter Margot. My name’s Robin Locksley.

Regina nodded in greeting at the two children, the dim candle light reflecting off the two old and stained nylon sleeping bags shoved into the corner of the church catching her eye.

“Leroy is the maintenance guy,” Henry informed him with a raised brow. “And he was just at my teachers Christmas party. What are you doing here? Are you homeless?”

Before either adult could respond, Regina to reprimand her son for his brisk rudeness or the man to deny their lack of housing, Roland stood up from the piano bench, his legs shaking and his voice full of sorrow and tears.

“Please don’t call the cops!” 

Robin shut his eyes, bowing his head and chewing his lip to keep from scolding his son for revealing what Regina assumed he was trying to hide. 

“I don’t wanna leave my daddy, please!”

He shifted from one foot to the other, bowing his head and shoving his hands into the pockets of his too small jacket.

“As you might have guessed from my son’s outburst, your boy is correct,” the blue eyed man admitted. He picked his head back up to look at the mother and son. “We don’t have anywhere else to go,” he said, guilt and shame exploding from those blue eyes that reflected the flames from the candles.

Regina looked between the small frightened boy still holding the fussy infant who appeared to be fighting to get out of her brothers arms and the humiliated man.

“I won’t call the cops.” Both Roland and his father’s shoulders slumped in relief but her next words sent anxiety skittering across their faces. “But this is a non-residential building and you’re not allowed to stay here. As mayor of Storybrooke I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

As if on cue the wind outside picked up to a dull roar, the howling of it echoing throughout the church and an icy chill sent shivers down their individual spines.

Roland hurried over to Robin who took the baby from him, gently shushing her with comforting rubs on her back. 

“But I don’t wanna sleep outside again!” Roland cried as he buried his face in his father’s pant leg. Robin pulled his lip into his teeth again before he kneeled in front of his son, lifting his chin with a finger so they were looking in each other’s eye. Robin reached out with his free hand and wiped his boy’s tears away with a gentle swipe of his thumb

“Come on, little man, you need to be brave right now.” 

In different circumstances Regina would have thought Rolands big brown eyes fighting back tears and his lip in what he must have thought was a brave pout was adorable but now, all she felt was her heart breaking for the small family.

“We’re going to be fine,” Robin assured his son. “We got our sleeping bags, your sister has her blanket… and it’s cold enough that the steam grates will be on so we’ll be nice and cozy tonight alright? Daddy’s not gonna let anything hurt you; I promise. Come here.”

Roland threw his tiny arms around his father’s neck and buried his face in his shoulder while Robin enveloped his son in a tight one arm hug, planting a kiss atop his wild brown curls.

Regina watched as Robin set Margot in a gray busted car seat which was missing half the handle that she hadn’t noticed prior to this before he stood up, taking off his jacket and handing the green leather outerwear to Roland who pulled it tight around himself and watched as he unzipped the stained ragged grey hoodie beneath that and covered the baby in it, tucking it around her tiny little body as tenderly as possible like only a father could do.

“Mom, we can’t kick them out!”

Both Regina and Robin, now clad only in a forest green thermal that showcased an athletic body and brown cargo pants, turned to the twelve year old who had been watching silently up until now who had his own tears building behind hazel eyes.

“Henry, calm down,” Regina told him but her words went unheeded, instead having an almost opposite effect on her son.

“It’s- it’s snowing and it’s cold and it’s Christmas! We can’t send them out into the street!”

“I can’t let them sleep in the church, Henry,” she said but even as the words left her mouth she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of regret and guilt and shame and all the things that someone was most definitely not supposed to feel during the holidays much less on Christmas Eve.

Henry opened his mouth to argue with his mother but Robin, of all people, cut him off at the pass. “Your mother’s right, Henry. She’s already done my children and I a service by not calling the police, I can’t ask any more of her.”

Well this was unexpected. 

She figured him to fight her, to agree with her son that it was Christmas and she shouldn’t be so cruel, to cuss at her, to beg and plead to stay in a shelter from the cold. Instead he was actually telling her son that she was right to kick them out, that be should be thanking her simply for not calling the cops on a father who had just sacrificed his outer garments for his children, who was willing to brave the frigid snow and roaring winds in only a thin thermal so that his children might have a bit more warmth.

God what on earth was the matter with her?

Regina cleared her throat, clapping Henry on the shoulder as if to curb any more emotional outbursts.

“How about I give you some money and you stay at Granny’s for the night?” she offered. “It’ll be a soft bed, roof over your head…”

Robin looked at her as if he was seeing the Holy Spirit himself. His jaw dropped and his emotions danced across his face; shock, curiosity, fear, shame, admiration…

“You would… do that for me? You don’t even know me.”

“I’m not about to let you and your kids spend the night outside on Christmas Eve. Grab your stuff, I’ll give you a ride. Henry, call Granny’s tell her we’re gonna be there soon and we’ll take a single room but prefer a double but we’re gonna need a crib brought up nonetheless .”

As Roland hurried over to where they had stowed their sleeping bags, his father’s knapsack and a black trash bag tied off tightly, and filled with something Regina couldn’t even begin to speculate as to what it was, and Henry got out his phone, Robin shifted the baby from one arm to the other, turning his eyes to the wine colored carpet beneath their feet. 

“I can’t repay you,” he admitted. “Not right now, but once I get back on my feet…”

“It’ll be fine.” In spite of everything a smile found its way to her lips and they tugged upwards towards the rafters. “Don’t worry about paying me back.”

“I will though.” Robin said it with such a conviction that the Mayor couldn’t help but believer his promise. “I refuse to take charity but I will take a helping hand in hopes that I might offer a hand to my children's and I savior one day.”

Regina scoffed at the title he bestowed upon her. “I’m no ones savior, I promise.”

“You’re mine. You’re Roland’s, you’re Margot's...The two people I love most on this earth are going to get a warm bed tonight thanks to you. If that doesn’t make someone a savior I don’t know does.”

Any urge to snicker at the idea she was a ‘savior’ of some sort left her at that precise moment. Her face fell as she looked upon Robins and saw that he was serious, that he truly believed her to be a savior, merely for paying $60 so he and his children might have a room for the night.

Surely anyone would have done what she was doing isn’t his situation… right?

Both boys approached the adults at the same time, Roland beaming so joyfully his dimples almost disappeared into his cheeks as he held the sleeping bags that he hoped would be rendered useless tonight.

But when Regina saw the defeated look on Henry’s face she knew that Rolands feeling of bliss was about to shatter.

“Granny said the inn was filled up,” Henry announced, his voice trembling with tears as if he was the one who rented out all the rooms and was admitting his crimes. “She doesn’t have any empty rooms.”

The worst part of the news was seeing the smile fade from Rolands face and the sadness that overwhelmed Robins blue eyes that just moments ago had been full of hope and thanks.

“I see. Well it is Christmas Eve after all, I would be surprised if there was ANY lodging in a 100 mile radius.” Robin turned his attention towards a shame filled Regina and he, the homeless man with two children including an infant who would be spending the night outside in 20 degree weather with buckets of snow falling on top of them, looked at her with a tender expression meant to comfort HER, to reassure HER. “We’re going to be fine, M’lady. I promise.”

He gave a polite inclination of his head, he patted Roland on his slumped shoulder, bundled up Margot even tighter, and began to walk down the aisle that Regina never noticed just how short it was before.

“Mom, we have to do something!” cried Henry as they watched the small family reach the doors.

Just as the heavy wooden doors opened, flooding the church with a blast of a cold that settled deep into Regina's bones even though her coat, she called out to them, desperate to keep them from leaving.

“You can stay with us!”

Robin and Roland turned back around towards Regina while Henry looked up at his mother with more pride and graciousness than he had ever looked at him with before.

“Pardon?” asked Robin. “Did… did you just say we could stay with you?”

Swallowing any hesitations, any thoughts of being victims of homicidal maniacs, any hypocrisy when she told Henry not to talk to strangers much less invite them to stay the night at their home; she nodded. 

“I have a guest room; the three of you are more than welcome to it.”

“No, I wouldn’t want to impose on you and your boy, especially not on the holiday.” 

Regina could see Roland bite back what she was sure was a plea to just take the offer but he held back his begging with far more patience than Henry had when he was five.

“You wouldn’t be an imposition. I promise. I just…” Regina took a breath and walked over to the group, her eyes meeting Robins. “If something happened to you or your kids out there and I know there was something I could have done… plus it’s Christmas Eve. I can’t let you sleep on the streets on Christmas Eve.”

Robin smiled at her and Regina felt herself melting at the heavenly sight and before she knew it Regina was as lost in his dazzling and grateful blue eyes as any woman had been before.

“I would be honored, M’lady. Thank you... Truly.”

So that was how Regina found her home three people fuller.

When they arrived at the Mills Mansion the sheer size of it had Roland looking up at with wide brown eyes asking in a whisper if they were really going to be staying ‘in a palace’ to which Robin chuckled and merely replied that they were indeed.

It was almost eleven a clock by the time showers for both Henry and Roland were complete, Regina found an old pair of pajamas that once belonged to Henry for Roland, and Robin took his own shower emerging from the bathroom in an old grey T-shirt and a pair of lounge pants that Regina’s ex Graham had left at her home once.

Knowing that Henry was too hyped at the prospect to wake up to a room full of gifts to sleep, Regina put on ‘Elf’ for her son and Roland as she and Robin bathed Margot and put her to sleep in the guest room where Robin would be sleeping, surrounding her tiny little body with pillows less she roll over in her sleep. 

“She’s so precious,” Regina gushed in a hushed whisper as she stared down at the sleeping infant while a flood of memories with Henry as a baby filled her.

“Margot’s my little peanut,” Robin told the brown eyed woman, leaning down and kissing the baby on the soft sweet smelling forehead. “I don’t know what I’d do without her or Roland.”

“I know the feeling,” Regina lamented as they made their way back down to the living room. “Henry is all I have.”

Robin would have inquired as to what she meant had they not walked into the end credits of the beloved Christmas movie scrolling on her flat screen and both Henry and Roland laid asleep on the couch and covered up with the fleece throw that usually stayed draped over the back of the couch.

Robin lifted up Roland as easy as he was lifting a feather and disappeared upstairs to the guest room where the small boy would be spending the night while Regina had to gently rouse Henry awake so he could head up to his bedroom that Regina would be locking from the inside tonight (it wasn’t as if she didn’t trust the blue eyed man and his family but one could never be sure).

After both individual boys were tucked in their individual beds and fast asleep Regina and Robin sat on the couch, a little too far apart for the mayors liking, with a glass of sweet red wine in their hands and a plate of the Christmas cookies that had been left for ‘Santa’ on the coffee table in front of them.

“Does Roland have anything to open?” Regina asked after they had been talking for a while, taking another sip of her wine. “I mean Henry knows there’s no Santa so if I tell him he has to wait until your family is gone so your son doesn’t feel bad he’ll understand.”

Curiously a rather playful expression played on his face. “How far does that whole not calling the cops on me thing extend?”

When she answered with a quark of her well manicured brow Robin got up from his spot on her black leather couch and disappeared into the entryway, reappearing with that mysterious black bag the family brought from the church.

“If that’s a dead body I’m gonna be really upset. The stench will take weeks to get out of my carpet,” said Regina with, thankfully, a chuckle from the man kneeling by her coffee table.

“No, I left my bag of dead bodies at my summer church.” Robin reached into the depths of the bag and pulled out a child’s book, a deck of cards with photos of the avengers on the back of them, a toy pirate ship and a toy bow and arrow, all wrapped in meticulously creased, folded and cut striped red and green wrapping paper 

“You’ll be surprised how flimsy the locks on the toy store are,” Robin admitted, also showing her several baby toys he had stolen for Margot.

She also noticed a scrap of paper in the bottom of the bag with various prices of, she assumed, the toys he had pilfered.

She knew she should be frightened, or at very least concerned, that she invited a self admitted thief to spend the night but Regina couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for the man setting the stolen presents for his children around the elegantly decorated tree covered top to stump in twinkle lights and crystal and glass ornaments. 

Hadn’t Regina also made her share of sacrifices and mistakes when it came to doing good by her son?

“Warm clothes and shoes for them then food and toys. That’s all I take, I swear it,” he assured her, seeing her eyes drift towards the silver knick knacks on her mantle. “You have nothing to fear from me. And every cent I can spare goes to paying the stores back what I took. I wouldn’t have even stolen the toys but Roland has had it very rough since… since his mum died, especially this past year, and I just wanted to give him a happy Christmas.”

Regina bowed her head for a moment out of not only respect for the dead woman Robin has mentioned and out of the memory of Henry’s own lost parent.

“We knew it was coming…” Robin continued with a heavy unmistakable sadness in his tone that seemed to extend to his eyes, his body, his whole soul seemed to reel from the loss. “Lung cancer that eventually spread to my Marian’s heart but it… it still hit me and my boy hard. Roland was only two but he still remembers some things about her. Or at least it makes me feel better to believe he does.”

“I’m sorry, Robin,” said Regina softly, reaching out and rubbing his shoulder, Robin reciprocating with taking her hand in his. “Henry’s father, my fiancée Daniel, was a farmer and three weeks after I told him I was pregnant the barn he was working out of caught fire. He ran back in to try to save the horses but all that old, dry wood, all that straw… he never had a chance. It’s been twelve years and I still miss him beyond words.” She took a shuddering breath. “There actually was a photo we took it was uh- it was me and Daniel and Henry’s first sonogram. He called it ‘our first family photo’ and he had it on him. When he died, he had it in his wallet… I’d do anything to get even just that photo of us back, it was the only picture I had of Henry and Daniel together.”

This time it was Robins turn to comfort her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, gently running his thumb up and down in a soothing motion all the while, admiration for the man who had passed and sympathy for the woman who loved him.

“Daniel sounds like he was a good man. A person who would run into a burning building for an animal had a heart full of more love than most.”

“He really did,” Regina agreed with a half grin, blinking away the tears that always seemed to appear when she spoke about her fiancée. She finished the rest of the wine in her glass and Robin graciously filled it back up.

Regina smiled, blinking away the last of her tears as she raised her glass. “To Marian and Daniel. 

He raised his own glass in response to her impromptu toast. “To Daniel and Marian.”

They clinked their glasses together and both of them took a drink of their crimson wine.

“So… Margot’s mother-.”

“Is not deserving of a toast,” Robin interrupted with a sharpness she never could have pictured coming from his sweet gentle voice less she heard it herself. He set the glass down as did Regina who, totally on accident of course, moved closer to the man as he told his tale.

“I lived in New York City for a time. A little bit over a year ago my job found out I wasn’t legal and they called ICE on me,” he explained. “They were going to deport me back to England and since Roland’s an American citizen I was going to be separated from my boy and I couldn’t let him lose his father after he lost his mother.  So I snuck out the back, ran home, grabbed my son and left the city and moved around, working low paying odd jobs under the table so that they wouldn’t have to run background checks. I could barely afford to feed my son much less keep the heat on, the electric, forget about rent…

Needless to say, I was rather depressed and so one night I went to a bar and got drunk. Very badly drunk. I don’t even remember speaking to this girl at the bar much less sleeping with her but I woke up besides this red headed woman and we said our goodbyes, I left, and somehow nine months later she tracked me down with a two day old Margot in her arms and told me that she didn’t want anything to do with ‘the bloody crying nightmare’ and Zelena left without even telling me the name she choose for our daughter.”

A shivery chill ran down Regina's back. Just the thought of handing Henry off to, truthfully what amounted to a stranger, made her want to sprint up those stairs and hug him as tight as her strength would allow her too.

“Now fast forward five months and I discover my boss hurt one of the girls I work with. She’s illegal as well which means she can’t go to the cops, so I made an anonymous complaint. Nothing happened, of course, but the next day I get a call that I was fired and then an hour later ICE is at my door. I snuck out the back with Margot and Roland again, made my way up to Maine trying to find steady work with someone who won’t care about my status and…”

“And you’ve been living in churches ever since,” she finished for him.

“Some of them don’t mind,” he told the brown eyed woman. “Some, like Storybrookes Church, discourage it. However I figure it’s less of a crime to break in what used to be considered a sanctuary for all wandering travelers than breaking into a place like a hotel or motel.”

“Why not stay in a shelter?”

Robin answered the question Regina was sure he received more than a few times with a shake of his head. “I won’t expose Roland and Margot to that kind of environment. I can’t keep them safe in a place like that but I can keep the safe out on the streets with me.”

She took another sip of her wine, finishing off the glass before declining more knowing she still had to bring up Henry’s gifts from the basement. 

“So…” she began slowly as if she was choosing her carefully. “You’re a thief, you commit B&E in religious institutions, and you’re not only undocumented but you’re wanted by Immigration… you really know how to make a girl feel comfortable around you don’t you?”

Robin threw his head back and laughed at her rather truthful statement, the sound bringing a much needed grin to Regina's face after far too heavy a conversation for Christmas Eve.

“I wish I could say your initial impression of me was wrong but I wouldn’t want to add liar to my list of crimes,” Robin said with another laugh that lit up his blue eyes like two dazzling stars in the night sky.

“In all fairness I do get it though. I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing for Henry if I was in your shoes. I just wish I could do more for you and your children than just give you a bed and a meal for the night.”

Robin’s smile fell but not the light from his eyes and a far more serious look replaced the look of joy she managed to bring him, even if only for a few seconds. “Regina… you could give me and mine a million dollars and a palace but it wouldn’t be anything compared to what you and Henry gave me, Roland and even Margot tonight. You gave us the most important thing someone could give another; hope. Hope and faith in humanity that there’s still decent people out in the world who would take a poor family under their roof rather than let them suffer to freeze on the streets. I might pay you back for the clothes and the hot meal but what you filled my spirit and my heart with this night? What you did for my children? That can never be replayed.”

Tears returned with a vengeance to Regina's eyes and she made haste to wipe them away with the back of her hand, his words overwhelming her with emotions she felt in the deepest part of her.

“Who knew a thief was this good with words?” Regina said after she wiped away a stray tear that had managed to fall.

“Who knew the mayor had a soft spot for derelicts?”

Another smile was exchanged between the two only this particular expression as different for the brunette. It sent her heart fluttering in her chest and made butterflies dance in her stomach.

Regina hadn’t felt that flittering nor those butterflies since Daniel and she would be lying to herself if she said that she didn’t miss those feelings, especially when the cause of them was a strapping handsome kind blue eyed single man, who she noticed was leaning in closer to her, who had also shared a glass of wine with her.

Her eyes fell to his lips and she began to picture them against hers, began to imagine how his scruff would feel against her neck, how his arms would feel when they were wrapped around her… Regina began to imagine all sorts of delightful things that unfortunately would have to be put on hold because she noticed the time and realized just how late it was getting and she had a feeling Heney would be waking her up at seven in the morning to open gifts just as he had for the last few years. 

So, with Robins assistance, all of Henry’s gifts managed to be brought up from the basement in unusually record time and spaced around the tree with Roland and Margot’s gifts sprinkled strategically throughout so that they wouldn’t open them all at once in the beginning nor would they have to wait until the end of the gifts to open theirs.

Once everything had been set out, the cookies that had been left out had been eaten and only crumbs remained and the glass of milk had been drank courtesy of Robins appetite, they stood opposite one another in the doorway of their respective rooms, Regina leaning up against her bedroom doorway and Robin standing in the open doorway to the guest room where his daughter and son already slept, both of them unwilling to depart from one another.

“I really don’t know how to thank you for this,” Robin said once again. “You’re a Saint, Regina.”

“You don’t have to thank me for this, Robin. Really. It was nice having some company for the holidays. Plus you did all the heavy lifting.”

Robin scoffed as if he had been offended. “Is that all I’m good for, lifting heavy loads?”

“No of course not.” A sly smile broke out on her face. “You also place gifts very professionally.”

“Lifting heavy loads and gift placement. I think I found my life’s calling.”

Regina chuckled softly, pushing a stray piece of hair from her face as she racked her mind for something else to say, not wanting to leave him just yet. Nor, she assumed by the way his eyes moved over hers as subtle as he could force himself to, did he want to leave her.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Robin.”

“As am I, Regina.” 

Another silence fell between them but only for a moment before Robin straightened up, walking the few steps over to the brunette.

“Here,” he said, reaching behind his neck and unclasping the tiny metal chain Regina hadn’t realized he had been wearing around his neck. “The only thanks

I’m able to actually give you.”

It was a Catholic Saint pendant. It showed some kind of scene with three people but before Regina had a chance to examine it further Robin was standing behind her. 

“It’s Saint Nicholas,” Robin explained as he clasped the necklace on her while she held her hair to the side. “One of the more versatile saints. Children, archers, thieves, sailers, poets, the poor…” Robin placed his hands on her bare shoulders and Regina could practically feel the barely there smirk when she shuddered rather pleasantly. “Women who’re desirable… pretty much if you’re a human being, he’s your patron saint. He doesn’t judge, he just loves and protects.”

“Wait.” Regina twisted around, looking up at his face which was now incredibly close. “Saint Nicholas? As in-...”

“The very same.”

“I didn’t realize he was a real person.”

“He’s very real. You see there were once three sisters,” he began while Regina listened to the story intently. “And their father was a drunk and a gambler and he squandered all of their money which meant that he couldn’t afford a dowry. Back in those days it meant the three girls were going to become prostitutes since they couldn’t marry. So Saint Nicholas, wanting to spare them that fate, snuck into their home at night and left money under the girls pillows for their dowry.”

The corners of Regina's lips turned up. “Which is how we got the whole St. Nick/Santa thing.”

Robin nodded, reaching out and centering the pendent. “St. Nicholas was the inspiration for Sinterklauss in the Netherlands. Then when the Dutch came to the colonies the Colonists heard ‘Saint a klauss’ and thus, the birth of Santa Claus.”

“So are you a history buff, a religious fanatic, or just really inclined to know about the people you wear around your neck?”

“Well if I wear something around my neck I think it would be pretty foolish not to know a few facts about it wouldn’t you agree?” he asked as he smiled at her, who simply chuckled and nodded. 

“I do.” She reached up and clutched the pendent in her hand, looking up at Robin as she did. “Thank you for this, Robin. It’s beautiful.”

“Well it at least matches the person who wears it now.”

The brown eyed woman chewed her lip taking a half step closer towards the man. He closed his eyes for a moment and Regina thought, for half a moment, that he would lean in and close that final bit of space between them. But before he could he took a step backwards, breaking them both of the moment that they had shared between them.

“We should get to bed,” said Robin, clearing his throat averting his eyes from her and as Regina did the same, she guessed it was because, like her, he knew if he looked at her a moment longer he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself any longer. “The kids are gonna be up soon.”

“Right. Yeah yeah, that’s a good idea,” she muttered as the moment between them began to fade. She turned to disappear into her bedroom and Robin into the guest room when he turned around, calling out to her just before she shit the door.

“Yes?” she asked, breathless.

Robin walked over, kissing her lightly on the cheek before he pulled away. “Thank you, Regina. For everything.”

Without another word and without sparing another blessed moment to look at her, Robin turned and went into the guest room, shutting the door behind him, and leaving one bewildered Mayor standing in the hallway staring at the closed door for a long moment before she headed off to bed.

The next morning she was awoken by a frantic shake and her son’s worried voice calling out to her to wake up.

“They’re gone!” Henry yelled at his mother when she finally opened her eyes.

“Whose gone?” she muttered as she sat up, running her hands over her face, shielding her eyes from the early morning sun streaming through her window.

“Robin! And the kids, they’re gone!”

“They’re probably sleeping, Henry.”

“No I checked they’re not there!”

Regina narrowed her eyes in confusion before she threw the covers off her and put her feet on the soft carpet, grabbing her robe and hurried over to the guest room across the hall where she had last seen the family.

The door was wide open and inside the room the bed was freshly made and there was no evidence that anyone had spent the night with them at all.

“You’re sure they’re not downstairs?” she asked, trying to hide her disappointment that Robin had left without saying goodbye, her frown deepening when Henry informed her he already checked and that they were gone, the sleeping bags were gone, the car seat was gone…

Robin has left and he had taken his family with him.

“He didn’t take anything,” Henry informed her, bringing up truthfully the last thing that was on Regina's mind. “The TVs still there, all the silver…”

“No I- I know, I wasn’t worried about that.” Regina took a shaky breath, trying to hide her disappointment and doing a rather poor showing of it. She forced a smile to her face that even a blind man could see the truth behind and turned towards her son. “I’m sure they just had other places to be. Come on, you still have gifts to open then I wanna get to Emma and Killian's by noon to help with the dinner.”

So with far heavier a heart than both would have liked, Henry and Regina walked downstairs where the treasure hoard of brightly wrapped gifts lay under the evergreen tree that was so elegantly decorated.

Regina grabbed her coffee and sat on the couch, watching with a smile as Henry opened the gifts she bought him, laughing and beaming at the excited utterances that could only come from children finding their wishes underneath a tree.

She noticed that the gifts Robin had showed her, the ones he bought for his own children, were nowhere to be found in the pile of presents which made her feel a little better, knowing his children at least had something to open up this morning.

Finally when the small mountain of toys were cleared away and the most expensive bracelet a twelve year old boy with a $10 a week allowance could afford was clasped on Regina's wrist Henry noticed the last two packages hidden way beneath the tree both of them wrapped, Regina noticed, in the same paper that Robin had used to wrap his children’s gifts.

“Here’s one for you,” Henry told Regina as he handed her the present, a flat rectangular box that felt rather heavy.

“Henry, the bracelet is beautiful you didn’t have to get me anything else,” Regina told him with a soft smile, being answered with a shake of his head.

“I didn’t get it for you,” he said as he grabbed hold of the last gift addressed to him. “To Henry, from Saint Nick,” Henry read the tag on his gift, a rather large heavy square package that Regina didn’t remember buying him, aloud.

She narrowed her eyes in confusion as she watched him tear off the paper before he froze like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Henry? Henry, you alright?” asked Regina. Henry was still for a moment longer before he tore off the rest of the paper in a mad dash, screaming as he clutched the box to his chest and jumping up and down in a flurry of excitement.

“A MACBOOK A MACBOOK A MACBOOK YOU GOT ME A MACBOOK!!!” he screamed, sprinting over to Regina and hugging her as tightly as humanly possible, tears of joy flooding his eyes and streaming down his face.

“What? No I didn’t,” she told him but he didn’t seem to hear her and just hugged her tighter.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!” he squealed before he pulled away, running his hand over the box where, sure enough, a MacBook Pro was waiting inside the sleek white box.

“Henry, I didn’t get you a-.”

“AND IT ALREADY COMES PREINSTALLED WITH A WORD PROCESSOR, YOU’RE THE BEST MOM EVER!”

“Henry-.”

“I’m gonna go set it up!” 

“I-.”

But he was already racing out of the room, beloved gift in hand.

Regina sat back against the couch, her mind wheeling.

She had not gotten Henry that computer. She was serious last night when she said she thought it was too expensive and he was too young to have his own laptop.

Who the hell had gotten it for him? Her parents got Henry a drone, they wouldn’t drop an additional thousand dollars on another gift for him. Maybe someone from Daniels side of the family?

Not to mention it was in the far under the tree so it would have had to been there for a while, at least. Surely Regina would have seen it before this morning…

She shook her head, picking up her own, smaller gift, putting the mystery out of her mind for now. Someone would come forward and reveal themselves as the giver eventually.

‘ _ To Regina, from Saint Nick’  _  the tag read. Curiously, she opened the present and gasped at what was inside. A sob ripped past her lips that she covered with a trembling hand, running her fingers over the gift, hardly able to believe what she was holding, sure that this was all a dream and she would wake up, this blessing in her hands gone.

The gift had been the photo Regina told Robin about the prior night, of her and Daniel crowded around the sonogram machine that showed the first ever photo of Henry and grinning like fools at their ‘first ever family portrait’, the same photo that had burned up in Daniels wallet when he raced into that fire, set in an extraordinarily elegant and beautiful priceless silver frame.

Her hand reached up, clutching at the pendent Robin had given her and a thought raced through her mind. A crazy thought that she was sure wasn’t even remotely grounded in reality but at the same time she was holding the photo that had been lost to her all those years ago once more.

She unclasped the pendant and held it in her hand, truly examined the scene for the first time since Robin put it on her the night before.

On it was a painting of a young man, no older than forty, in beautiful green and brown bishop robes, holding a baby girl with dark blonde hair in his left arm while his right gave the sign of the cross. A small boy with brown curls and brown eyes clutched at the saints magnificent robes.

And, as Regina looked at the saint in the pendent, who had an angelic halo surrounding his head, she realized just how familiar the blue eyed Saint Nicholas actually looked…


End file.
